Postcards 2: Travelogue
by TFSyndicate
Summary: SAVED FROM THE ARCHIVES! An abandoned sequel to my self-insertion crossover fanfic "Postcards", chronicling a Greenwich Village musician on tour with his friends, presented here for the first time in its current state. (NOTE: Incomplete chapters indicated. Featuring characters from Um Jammer Lammy, Danny Phantom, Seinfeld, Sly Cooper, Klonoa, Evelyn Evelyn and more)
1. Pre-story notes

This crossover fanfic project first began some time in 2012, before the first "Postcards" was finished, but was abandoned by late 2014 so I could focus on other stuff. It is presented here in its current, unfinished, state (as of January 15th, 2018). Who knows? Maybe I'll go back to this one some day.

For quick access to scenes with your favorite fandoms, use this guide below:

 **Um Jammer Lammy:** Almost every chapter; many UJL-related OCs appear

 **Sly Cooper:** Chapters 2 onwards

 **Danny Phantom:** Chapters 1 onwards

 **Seinfeld:** Chapters 1-3

 **Klonoa:** Chapters 1 onwards

 **Evelyn Evelyn:** Chapters -2, -1

 **Welcome Back Kotter:** Chapter 2

 _Postcards 2: Travelogue_ is a fan-written piece, and has not (yet) been endorsed/approved by the original creators of the fandoms involved.

M chapters were planned, but much later in the story; and I didn't get that far.


	2. Chapter -2: Magical Mystery Tour (INC)

My name is Thomas Fay. I have been through lots of strange episodes since my graduation from Columbia University in New York City. My adventure took me straight to a small town in the west coast, where animals are cross-bred with humans to create crazy characters. I have befriended many of these "anthros" during my stay in the Los Angeles county, and also on my trip back to New York by way of the Windy City of Chicago. It is during this expedition where I met an anthro bug called Teriyaki Yoko. She is a singer who started off bad, but when I came along, things started to look up for the both of us. So I took her under my wing for the rest of the journey back to New York. Home at last, I made love to Yoko, and now she has my daughter, Marinara.  
Five years have now passed. Yoko, whom I have almost always called "Egg-yolk", received in invitation to star in a movie. She accepted, and took Marinara with her. Before she left, she promised to keep in touch with me, as long as she has my number. I myself received an invitation of something else.

You are cordially invited to take part in a  
Musical Retreat  
Meet fellow musicians and share your favorite songs!  
Visit landmarks of the musical world, including places that inspired the songs!  
England-India-Vietnam-Woodstock  
Charter begins Thursday, departing from JFK Terminal 5.  
Wear a giant bag: You'll find out why once you show up!  
See you there!

I already knew I was heading into fun when I caught the John and Yoko reference in the invitation ("Everybody talking 'bout bagism..."). I took all the necessities I needed for the vacation: My guitar, my cell phone, a binder full of lyrics, a blank tape and recorder, and a briefcase full of extra clothes and toothbrushes. Hey-you gotta be prepared!  
On Thursday, I was all set to go. I took a large city garbage bag from beneath the sink, and put it over my body. It covered me completely, but I couldn't see out of it well. So I tore through the plastic at eye-level to create a hole to see out of. Much better. Leaving my neighbor Kramer in charge of the apartment, I was good as gone.

I was right on time when I got to the airport terminal. When I reached the security scanner, a couple guards had their eyes on the bag I was wearing.  
"Must be a John Lennon fan club goin' on here!" commented a guard.  
I chuckled, and continued on my way. Down the hall came a fork, and I saw someone else wearing a bag going right. So I followed it. I walked into a bunch of bag-clad people, eagerly waiting for the OK to take them off. Including me, there must've been five or six participants total. One slipped off for the vending machine to get a Twix. I followed, and came back with a 6-pack of Peppermint gum (for my ears).  
A few minutes later, a young guy in a typical tour guide suit approached us. He was the organizer.  
"Hello," he said, "My name is Biff. Welcome to the Musical Retreat. The plane is all set for boarding, so if you'll follow me, we can begin."  
We all stood up and followed him down some stairs to the ground level. Here was a small plane idling, waiting for us. On the inside, it was also small, but was luxurious. Several seats in the center faced each other. All of us thought we had it made. We all took seats, placing our instruments next to us. I pulled out some gum and offered it to Biff and the other participants. The one with the Twix politely declined. Nonetheless, I felt like I should've brought more.

"I think you all know the safety procedure by now, so I'm not gonna bother," said Biff, "So why don't we take off our bags and introduce ourselves, one at a time. Feel free to let out your secrets or hidden identities-Think of it as one of those something-aholics anonymous thingies. Gum boy, let's start with you," he pointed to me.  
I pulled off my bag and began. "Hi, I'm Thomas Fay."  
"Hi, Thomas," said the others.  
"I'm native to New York, but I've spent most of my post-graduation time over on the West Coast. If I had to name anything weird about me, here it is: I'm half ghost."  
There was a quick applause from the crowd.  
"Very good, Tom," said Biff, "Who'd like to go next?" He looked around the cabin, then found one, sitting next to an electric guitar.  
This one, surprisingly, looked a lot like my sheep friend Lammy, only with orange colors instead of red. I was not surprised: I already know four look-alikes.  
"Hi, I'm Mammy."  
"Hello, Mammy."  
"I'm a cross-breed between a human and a sheep, and... that's it, man."  
There was another short applause, then Mammy pulled out a sealed petri dish and a straw. She put the straw into a small opening in the dish, and stuck the straw up her nose. Uh oh... She's a drug addict!  
Guest number three was an English bass player named Percilla, but she had nothing significant to say, except that she would like to say hi to her folks when they're in England. Biff made a note to do that.  
The guy behind the fourth bag was, surprisingly, my old school buddy, Short Martin, and he's not really short anymore! He was very glad to see me. In case you were wondering, he's a drummer.  
Then we all pointed our eyes to the person in the fifth bag-The one with the Twix bar in its exposed black-gloved hand, sitting next to an accordion. I was surprised to hear two voices coming from underneath the bag, debating on whether or not to take the bag off. But they took it off anyway. Our eyes opened wide in surprise, shock, wonder, and/or awe. The accordionist wore a lolita-style purple dress in addition to the long gloves, but what was amazing was that she had TWO HEADS and THREE LEGS.  
"Hi, I'm Eva Neville," said the left head.  
"I'm Lyn Neville," said the right one.  
"Hi, Evelyn," we all said.  
Oh yeah... I heard of this act before. I read somewhere that they used to be a sideshow act, now they're a singer-songwriter duo living in Walla Walla, Washington. Their album is practically their life story.


	3. Chapter -1: Music from Big Pink

The plane landed in the Kingston-Ulster Airport: A long drive up from New York City. I knew we were in New York, but where was a big mystery to the five us.  
"From this point onward," said Biff, "We continue on land. After all, we are nearing the end of the tour."  
The retreat group went back into the plane to gather their stuff before the plane abandoned them. Mammy took her drug-filled petri dish, and took a quick sniff. With Biff leading the way, we entered a rented stretch limousine. The interior was like the cabin of the plane, only black.  
We still had no idea where we were going. Most of us became bored after a while. Eva and Lyn played some random notes on their accordion to stay sane. I pulled out my guitar and did the same thing. Eventually, we saw the sign. It said

Welcome to Woodstock

Inside my head, I heard Crosby, Stills, and Nash doing their rendition of the Joni Mitchell song.

 _By the time we got to Woodstock  
We were half a million strong  
And everywhere was a song  
and a celebration._

The limo passed by the farm yard where the festival was staged back in 1969.  
Biff spoke, "Thousands of great rock legends of today were up on that stage, but according to many, the scene itself was better. It rained throughout the weekend, and that sometimes led to trouble among the crowd. Out of the total 400,000 attendees, only 30,000 stayed up for the entire show, hopefully to catch a glimpse of Hendrix."  
Just then, it started raining, much like how it rained back in '69. The parking area was too full to drop someone off, but who would want to drop someone off in a field in the middle of nowhere? Besides, there wasn't much else to see than the stage and the plaque saying "Woodstock Festival was here". And so the limo turned around, and went north.

Up Route 33 we went, into West Saugerties. Biff laid no specific clues about what we're going to see next, just this:  
"Just a little place for a bed and breakfast, and then that's it with the tour."  
The limo went right on a fork, up a long narrow, then down a small dirt path, and then came to a halt at the end. We all took our luggage and stepped out while the limo peeled out of sight.  
"Here we are," said Biff.  
Before us stood a house. It was big. It was pink. That could only mean one thing: It was the Big Pink, where Bob Dylan recorded over a hundred songs with The Band, back in 1967. Biff rented the place for one night in advance, and I thought why not recreate what happened here.  
So after Chinese take-out (courtesy of Biff), we went downstairs to the famous basement. This was where it all happened. I pulled out a small, but professional, audiocassette recorder from my bag, and placed it in the center of the room. Then I put in a blank tape. I started wondering why I was the only one who came over-prepared. Biff sat down at the machine and pressed RECORD. Eva and Lyn sat down at a piano, Mammy and I tuned our guitars, while Short Martin sat down at a drum kit.  
Now the music began. Eva and Lyn started by dvulging us with another one of their depressing ballads: One they called "Sandy Fishnets". To brighten it up a bit, I asked anyone if they heard the album "Music from Big Pink". Everyone except Percilla raised their hand. So I led the others into singing this one song off the album, "To Kingdom Come". Nearing midnight, we decided one more song before bidding farewells tomorrow morning. So we settled on one that we all knew: "Like a Rolling Stone". Because no band was complete without at least one Dylan cover.

And so the next day came. A limo approached us, and took the whole retreat group to the nearest bus station, back in Woodstock. Biff was standing at the doorways.  
"I hope you all enjoyed yourselves during these past couple of days," he said, "Now you can go home and brag about seeing all those great music places  
And so our retreat has ended. We entered the bus terminal and said goodbye to each other. I was talking with Eva and Lyn while waiting for my bus to come, when I realized I haven't communicated with Teriyaki Yoko for a while. So I stood up for a phone booth and dialed her hotel room. There was no answer. She must've checked out. I assumed she was on her own bus ride home.  
At last, the bus came for the George Washington Bridge terminal in New York. I took my guitar from next to Eva and Lyn and hopped on board. Unfortunately, there was only one seat left, and it was next to Mammy. As soon as the bus started, Mammy pulled out her petri dish and straw, and began to sniff her drugs. She looked over at me with a lazy, stoned eye.  
"You want some?" she asked.  
"NO thanks," I said.

I knew I was in for a long ride home. I donned my iPod earbuds and put on a song by the Band.  
 _Take a load off, Annie.  
Take a load for free.  
Take a load off, Annie,  
And you put the load right on me._


	4. Chapter 1: Alone Again (Naturally)

The bus arrived at the George Washington Bridge bus terminal at nightfall. I took my bags and made my way for the subway. It was so late that the A was running local all the way. I rode it down to the 81st street station, and proceeded westward on foot. After a few stop lights, I saw my apartment building, number 129, at last. Making my way inside, I set my bags down on my bed, and head towards the bathroom door.  
When I opened it, I was in for an unpleasant surprise: My neighbor, Kramer, was taking a bubble bath in MY bathroom! I knew I shouldn't have given him my spare keys before I left for the retreat.  
"But my drains were clogged!" Kramer complained in defense.  
I kicked him out, nonetheless.

I just realized something: I didn't pass by or get a hello from Lammy. She was one of the first "anthros" I met back in California, and the last I knew of her, she took up an apartment downstairs. I went back down to the lobby, and found that her name was taken off the directory. I was vaguely sad. She must've moved back, I thought.  
Fortunately, the directory still mentioned a Danny Fenton living here. Danny, whom I also met in California, is half ghost like me, as a result of a cliche lab accident. He's in that apartment with his girl clone, Dani.  
It was soon after midnight, so what was the point of waking them up? I decided to retire back to my bedroom, hopefully to return to my old living ways.

I woke up the next morning to the buzzing from my alarm clock. I fixed myself a little breakfast, then went to answer the knocking door. In stepped Danny and Dani, the latter leaping up and hugging me.  
"Welcome back, Tom," Danny patted me on the back, "How was your retreat?"  
"Aw, it was awesome. We got to see where Woodstock took place!" I said, "Anything happen while you were 'holding down the fort', as it were?"  
Danny and Dani looked at each other.  
"Some of our fellow musicians moved back to the west coast," said Dani.  
"I noticed. Have you heard from Egg-yolk? Is she back yet?"  
"Nothing yet."  
That can't be good, I thought. I quickly slipped into the bedroom to change, then I scurried downstairs, back to the subway station.

As far as I've know her, Egg-yolk had an apartment near Grand Central Terminal. Arriving at the station, I went to where the building's main entrance was. The building was still there, the doorman was still there, the old-fashioned elevator was still there, and her name on the directory was still there!  
"Hi," I said to the doorman, "I'm here to see Teriyaki Yoko."  
The doorman, as drunk and sleepy as ever, turned his head around, then back again.  
"Sure," he said.  
I rushed up the stairs to the 8th floor, over to her apartment door. Eagerly, I knocked on it. No answer. Using my ghost abilities, I walked through the door. To my dismay, she was nowhere to be found. I went back down to the doorman.  
"How long has Miss Yoko been out?" I asked.  
"For a while, I guess," said the doorman, "As far as I know, she missed two rents."  
"How much does she owe?"  
"$400 at the most."  
"Can I pay for her? She...uh...has my baby."  
"Sure."  
I whipped out a checkbook from my pocket and wrote down the amount, then handed it to the doorman.  
Now I was heartbroken. I would really think Egg-yolk would be home by now. I decided to walk my misery off-I wasn't in the mood for a subway ride.

 _And when she gone away,  
I cried and cried all day,  
Alone again, naturally._

I got as far as 63rd street on Lexington Avenue, when I came across a small store. The sign out front said "Ripley's Orphanage of the Odd". Curiously, I went inside. I figured adopting myself a friend would put my troubles aside.  
The clerk on duty seemed to have all the answers.  
"Is this really a subsidiary of Ripley's?" I asked.  
"No, actually. This little place was my idea. The Ripley family thought it was a good idea, and gave me the starting fund," he said, "So what can I do for you?"  
"Do you have any creatures that speak English?"  
"I'm not sure exactly which ones, but you're welcome to say 'Hello' to some and see if they talk back."  
Good words of advice.  
I proceeded into the pens on the right. These pens were full of obvious hybrid animals, like Ligers (Lions+Tigers), Cabbits (Cats+Rabbits), and Cogs (Cats+Dogs). Then I came across some unusual combinations, like Dots (Dogs+Ants), Sherses (Sheep+Horses), and Pigards (Pigs+Birds).  
One row of pens over were what were labeled A.U.S. (Animals of Unidentified Species). Instantly, I locked eyes with this one small creature. He was mostly black-furred, with the exception of his white-furred face. His ears went down the entire length of his body, ending in what looked like giant white gloves. He wore red shorts, a red collar, and a blue hat with a Pac-Man emblem on it. On the collar was a name tag with one word on it: "Klonoa".  
I tried to take off his hat so I could pet him on the head, but when my hand got close to the bill, Klonoa said "Heeyyyyyy..." in a whining tone. So I pet him with the hat on. What else could I say? He looked adorable. I picked up Klonoa and carried him to the clerk's desk.  
"I'll take this little guy," I said, "Is there anything I need to know about him?"  
The clerk was enthralled, "He's practically a human child. He'll eat anything you like to eat, he'll watch anything you watch."  
"I know just what to do..."

And so, walking down the stairway outside the storefront, me and my new friend Klonoa found ourselves having a lot of fun together on the subway ride home.


	5. Chapter 2: Lost in the Supermarket

A few days have passed since I adopted Klonoa. He has enjoyed his new surroundings, and instantly became a favorite among my other friends.  
While Klonoa was sleeping in my bedroom, I heard a horn beeping outside my window. I looked out, and there was an old fashioned Checker taxicab parked on the curb. I could hear a nasally nerdy voice yell "TOM! CAN YOU HEAR ME? TOOOOMMMMMM!" Right away, I knew who that was.  
I scurried down the stairs again, to the Checker. Wait, did I tell you about how I got a Checker yet? Before the musical retreat, I won an eBay auction on a used Checker cab that could use some work. When it came just yesterday, I commissioned my friend Bentley to do some work on it.  
Bentley is a turtle, who works for one of my other friends, Sly (I'll get to him later). As far as I've known him, Bentley has been in a wheelchair. When I saw him get out of the cab, he was on crutches.  
"Looks great," I said, "What did you do to it?"  
"Oh, where to begin..." said Bentley in his nasal tone, "Well, I replaced the engine: it's a hybrid now. There are also rockets and propellers under the back bumper so you go up into space and down underwater, respectively. Then I replaced the radio with 8-track, audiocassette, and Compact Disc..."  
"Yeah? Go on."  
"The cab is equipped with a universal translator feature. I placed some microphones and speakers inside and out front, so that if you happen across some foreigners, you can understand what they're saying, and vice-versa."  
I found the exterior microphones right away: They were underneath the headlights.  
"Now here's the best part," said Bentley, "Casanova Mode. You just flip the switch, and...well, you'll see what happens. You know what they say, 'If it's a-rocking, don't go a-knocking'!"

We shared a chuckle. I was looking forward to using the new and improved Checker. 'Why not give it a test run now?' I thought. So I climbed in and turned on the ignition. It started like an ordinary car. I placed an old 8-track of the Doors into the slot, then stepped on the gas. The cab launched out of its parking spot, past every green lighted intersection. Down the hill to Riverside Drive, it suddenly bounced upward, off the ground. I shifted a gear on the stick, and the rockets under the cab ignited. Up out of the atmosphere I went, into the motherboard of outer space itself, all with the Doors' "Break on Through (To the Other Side)" blaring out the speakers with impressive quality, even for 8-track standards!  
About halfway through the song, I was surprised to find that I crossed the boarders of reality itself-Everything in front of me was just a plain white void. I looked down at the gas gage on the dashboard: I only used up a quarter tank of gas! Turning around, I accelerated the cab to twice the speed as before, back down to the planet Earth. Faster and faster I went, charging toward Manhattan Island, but there was one problem: I missed the island! The checker splashed into the East River. I shifted the gears again, and the rockets were replaced with the propellers. I zoomed up the edge of Manhattan to the surface. Shifting the gears back to normal, I drove across Central Park and back to the spot in front of my building. There goes half a tank of gas...

Standing curbside of the Checker were Danny and Dani. They were surprised at my entrance, let alone seeing me with a car at all. Previously, I was used to either hailing down cabs, taking the subway, or flying. I didn't know what to say to them except "Thank Bentley."  
"TOM!" I looked up to find Klonoa yelling at me out the window, "The phone's ringing!"  
"Okay, I'll be right up!" I yelled back.

I scurried inside and picked up the ringing phone.  
"Hello? Oh, hey Sly. How's your vacation with Carmelita? Really? You're coming back? Why not use your van? Oh. How about I'll pick you up in my new car? Okay. I'm on my way. See you there!"  
Maybe now I should explain. This is the Sly guy I mentioned earlier. Sly is a raccoon, the current decedent in a long line of gentlemen thieves that specialize in robbing criminals. Carmelita, on the other hand, is a Spanish fox working as an inspector for the INTERPOL. Her personality is strongly reminiscent to Inspector Javert, with the whole "Once a thief, forever a thief" belief. Until recently, she was always determined to arrest Sly, but because of recent events, they're officially a couple now. I really hope the INTERPOL doesn't find out about that.  
Before I left for my retreat, Sly and Carmelita were on a vacation of their own, touring Northern Europe. They said they would be gone for three weeks, but this is only two and a half. I wonder why they're cutting their vacation short.  
"Klonoa, I'm going to JFK to pick up Sly and Carmelita. You wanna come?" I asked.  
"Wahoo!" said Klonoa.

With a cassette of the Donovan blaring out the speakers, we were on the road again in the Checker. Klonoa, who was riding shotgun, wasn't so familiar to the city as I was, so I pointed out all the good spots as we passed by them on the Belt Parkway. We came to our exit for JFK airport, and like a regular taxi, waited outside the baggage claim area for Terminal 3.  
Klonoa stood on top of the cab with a hand-written sign that read SLY COOPER. I looked at the clock in the dashboard: They were due by now, I thought. Back outside, I saw Sly and Carmelita coming out toward the cab, hands full of luggage, caps, cameras, and all other stereotypical tourist paraphanalia. They both climbed into the backseat, while Klonoa jumped back to his spot up front.  
"Hola, Tom," said Carmelita.  
"Good to have you back, fellas," I said back.  
"Who's the new guy?"  
"Klonoa."  
As we started to leave, I heard some people outside see our car and yell "Hey, the Checker's back!" and "Woah! Look at the Checker!"  
But the way back went downhill a bit. The word in the cab was this:  
"You broke up?" I was stunned.  
"I was in love with Carmelita for so long," said Sly, "that when we actually did it, I felt like I didn't want it in the first place."  
"I couldn't agree with Sly more," Carmelita added, "Sly was so...uhhh...unsatisfactory."  
I didn't know what to think of that, but I know how they felt. Sometimes when I get something that I always wanted, I get bored with it the moment I start using it, but the next day I'm all over it. I've heard other people were like that, but I wonder why Sly and Carmelita weren't. I was left confused.

I dropped Sly off at the auto garage where Bentley was working at, then up to 81st street to drop Klonoa off. Carmelita was left as I drove down Amsterdam/10th avenue to her loft in Chelsea.  
"So you were deemed 'unsatisfactory', huh?" I asked again.  
"Si. Maybe I should've captured Sly when I had the chance to. He is still on the other side of the law."  
"Aw, I really thought you were meant to be together."  
"You do?"  
I nodded, "I'm under some stress myself. Teriyaki Yoko never came back from acting in that movie, and I'm a little worried. Sometimes at night, I get this feeling that she ditched me."  
"You think she didn't have enough money for the autobus ride back?"  
"Well that could be a possibility..."  
Carmelita leaned forward, "Tom, do you think I'm unsatisfactory?"  
"There's only one way to find out."

Now came a chance to use that 'Casanova mode' I was wondering about earlier. I flicked a switch next to the temperature controls, and we lifted our legs onto the seats. Window shades descended over all the windows. At the same time, the seats moved forward until they touched the gear shift. Then they reclined to a flat position, and moved back until they interlocked.  
Carmelita blushed, "Oooooo, this looks nice!"  
She swallowed the last pill from inside her coat pocket, and took her top off. Then we started kissing and all that kind of stuff. She stroked my straight/curly black hair, I was playing with her long blue hair and her fox tail. 'Unsatisfactory'? I didn't think so.

I spent the night at Carmelita's loft. The guest bed was right near a window that looked out onto the HighLine; That's an abandoned elevated railway they turned into a park. Sirens blared past us like they always did. Chelsea was just like my place on the Upper West Side, except that there's no subway.  
I woke up the next morning to a ringing phone from the kitchen which Carmelita answered.  
"Hola. Si, esta es mi. ¿Que? ¡No! ¿Que? Si. Gracias, audios."  
She hung up as I sat down at the table to eat the scrambled eggs she made us.  
"Listen," she said, "The INTERPOL just called. They want to speak with me. Is it all right if you drive me over to their temporary satellite office?"  
"Sure. Urgent?"  
"I'm not sure."

At 10:30 AM, we took the Checker down to the office in SOHO (SOuth of HOuston).  
"How long do you think you'll be in there?"  
"About an hour or so."  
"That should give me enough time to swing by Katz's to get us some lunch and come back here to pick you up. All right?"  
"Deal," said Carmelita, as she stepped out of the car.  
With a CD of Roy Orbison playing, I drove off in search of Katz's Delicatessen.

An hour later, at 11:30 AM, I arrived back at the satellite office. She wasn't out yet. I decided to head inside and wait for her there. There was a secretary in an INTERPOL uniform.  
"Hi," I said, "I'm here to pick up my friend Carmelita."  
"Have a seat sir. Miss Fox is with the chief," said the secretary.  
I sat down at a chair that was coincidentally next to the boss's office. I could barely hear what was going on in there, but I could tell it wasn't pretty.  
"You're firing me?" I heard Carmelita's voice say.  
The other voice in the room barked back, "I can't have anyone on my force in an affair with a criminal mastermind."  
"But Sly is a nice guy!"  
"That's what he wants you to think. All gentlemen thieves are villains!"  
"But he's a MASTER thief! He only robs criminals. In fact, he always defeats them first before I show up to arrest them!"  
"I understand, Fox. I've actually seen his type before. THEY'RE NOT PEOPLE!" I could swear that boss sounded familiar... "The law is the law, and we can't change it. You dating a known criminal that escaped arrest twice... It's all nutzy-cuckoo!"  
There was a pause, then the chief spoke again, "Anyway, I'm gonna need your badge and your shock pistol. Property of the INTERPOL, you know."  
Carmelita did so, but then she was fired at by the shock pistol that was now in the boss's hand.  
"You asked for it, Fox," said the chief, "Now before we leave, is there anyone coming to pick you up?"  
"Si. My musician friend Tom said he was coming over."

Finally the door opened, and out came Carmelita and the INTERPOL chief, and I was surprised to see who the chief was.  
"...Mr. Woodman!" I said, "You're the chief of INTERPOL?"  
"Thomas Fay?" he snapped, "YOU! I should've known you were dating Fox."  
"We're NOT dating," said Carmelita, "He's just a friend."  
"QUIET, YOU! Tom was the worst student in class."  
"But Tom told me he excelled on your tests."  
"Exactly. That's why I don't like him. Did you know he was involved in a riot in the cafeteria?"  
"For the last time, Mr. Woodman," I said, "I was just an innocent bystander!"  
"Then who was it who yelled 'CHARGE', huh? You're classmates weren't PEOPLE! I tell you, it's all nutzy-cuckoo! Everybody here is nutzy-cuckoo!" He pointed to his secretary "YOU'RE nutzy-cuckoo!"  
"Sir, I was only following orders..." began the secretary,  
"QUIET YOU! Here's your fox, Fay. I think you know what to do with her."


	6. Chapter 3: Chelsea Morning (INC)

I couldn't believe it myself. First Sly and Carmelita break up and now she gets kicked out of the INTERPOL because of it. What's the worst that could happen? ...Oh yeah: The Checker ran out of gas on 10th Avenue. Pulled over to 26th street, beneath the HighLine, I walked a sobbing Carmelita the rest of the way to her loft. The Katz's sandwiches were pointless at this point. Sex wasn't gonna help either. There was only one option left, and that was to play her a song on my guitar.  
After Carmelita made it upstairs, I quickly slipped back to the car to get my guitar. I went back to the loft and sat down on the couch. I figured a song about Chelsea would do. So I started that Joni Mitchell song. Carmelita, seated on a windowsill, caught wind of the song playing, and started singing before I could get a chance. I never heard her sing before, and I was in for a treat, because she sang beautifully.

 _There was milk and toast and honey,  
And a bowl of oranges, too.  
And the sun poured in like butterscotch,  
And stuck to all my senses._

Instantly, I thought of something that would turn Carmelita's life around... in a good way of course.  
"How would you like a job in the recording industry?"  
She looked at me for a moment. Her pupils enlarged. Her tears let out. Her sad face gradually faded.  
"I'LL DO IT!" She sprang toward me, from her spot to mine, and hugged me hard. She calmed down a bit, and started to relax.

Just then, I heard a whirring noise from down below. That wasn't good: The Checker was getting towed! We rushed out of the bulding and down to where we left it, and just in time too. The back of thw tow truck wasn't yet touching the car.  
"WAIT!" I yelled, "That's my car! It's out of gas! I'm sorry!"  
Just then I heard the voice of a teen Irish girl saying "Great gone in the head! Is that a checker, fella?"  
I turned around to see a girl dressed in...oh dear. It was another Lammy doppelganger. This one had green hair, a shamrock-emblazened green t-shirt, and yellow jeans.  
"I haven't seen these things in yonks! Any use?" She asked.  
"Up until the point where it ran out of gas, I'm afraid," I said.  
"You know," she said, "If it ran on another source of energy, I would've suckin' diesel more often." Woah...Irish slang at work!  
"You're an environmentalist, huh?" She nodded in approval, "Well you don't have to worry. Last time I checked, this is a hybrid now."  
"You must be very jammy to have this! I'm Blammy."  
We shook hands, then I turned to the tow truck's driver.  
"Sorry," I said, "I didn't know this was a no parking zone. I was in a hurry to get is parked. You see it's stripped for gas."  
Said the driver, "In that case, is it all right if I take this to the gas station to have it filled? My treat."  
"Deal."

SO THAT HAPPENED

I left the Checker parked in front of my building, no parking restriction sign in sight. I decided to go back to taking the subway to avoid a reprisal with the dreaded tow truck.  
I invited Klonoa and Danny to tag along as I took Carmelita to the record company I was signed to, DeviantART Records. On the subway, I told Danny what has happened so far. I also mentioned what Carmelita and I did in the Checker the night before.  
"What about Teriyaki?" asked Danny.  
"We decided that we were better off in a mentor/protege relationship. Besides, I'm doubting if she's ever coming back."  
"Do you really think Carmelita has a chance at DeviantART?"  
"You should've heard her sing this morning!"  
"Well as always, I have faith in you," Danny patted me on the back, "Halfa brother."  
We shared a chuckle. 'Halfa' is shorthand for 'half ghost'. Then the subway train doors opened on our stop at Lexington Avenue.

Like the INTERPOL, DeviantART records just acquired a new boss. I caught wind of it as we stepped into the lobby of the building. But when we took the elevator up to the offices/recording studios, I was suprised with dismay to see who it was. He was a slim-looking guy dressed in black who is said to be a hit-maker. I knew him as the boss of Century Records in Chicago, but he tried to steal Teriyaki away from me. His name? Slim Guy. You should hear him talk: he sounds a lot like Christopher Walken.  
"It's SO good to see you again, Fay," he said, unaware of what I thought of him, "Who's the fox chick?" Ugh, I hate him.  
I sighed, "Slim Guy, Carmelita Fox. You probably met at that Festivus dinner from five years ago." While she shook hands with Slim, I whispered in her fox ear, "I'd watch my step around him if I were you."  
"I take it that you brought her down here to see how it's done," said Slim.  
"No. I'm here to sign her up to the roster. Give us five minutes of studio time and we'll do a live demo."  
"You're on," he said. I'm pretty sure he said that because there's a girl involved. UGH...

We walked into an open booth. Danny and Klonoa sat before the console and put a tape in: It was the same tape I used at the Big Pink, and it was all cued up to record more songs. Meanwhile, Slim Guy, Carmelita and I went down to the main part of the studio. I was tuning my guitar when I looked up and saw Danny give me a confused signal. He never actually operated a console: Back in Amity Park, there was a guy named Murry who did that kind of work.  
"It's the button with the red dot," I said.  
Danny pressed it, and Carmelita and I began our song.

 _The moon is like a boat my love,  
Of lemon peel afloat my love,  
And with a sail of gauze my love,  
She seems to slightly pause,  
Upon her silent way,  
All on her starry way.  
_  
As the song ended, I saw Danny look around for the STOP button.  
"It's the one with the square."  
He found the button, and as he pressed it, Carmelita and I went up the stairs to the console booth. Slim Guy came last, and it took only one second for me to turn my head around to catch him looking up Carmelita's skirt.  
Once we were all before the console, Slim proclaimed to Carmelita "Congratulations. You're in." Something tells me he wasn't really paying attention to her singing.

Now out in the hallway, with Klonoa piggy-backing on Danny, we were approached by a guitarist girl who came out from two booths over. She had a matching black tube-top and jeans, and had blue hair put into a polytail that looked like a flame...actually her skin was blue all over. This is Ember: she's all ghost. Like Danny, she hailed from Amity Park, and last year, she finally got her big break here in New York.  
"Hey, dipstick," she said to Danny.  
Then she saw Klonoa, "Who's this little guy?" She tried to remove his hat to pet him, but again Klonoa whined "Heeeyyyyyyy..." So she laid off.  
Then Ember turned to me, "Welcome back, village boy," Only one other person was known to call me that, "Didja have any fun out there in...whereever you went?"  
"Oh you have no idea..." I said back.  
"Well that's good to hear."

Ember joined us on our trek back to my apartment. I called in for some pizza, and split a bottle of root beer.  
"Here's to Carmelita's signing to DeviantART," I toasted.  
We clinked our glasses and guzzled down the root beer. Then the buzzer sounded again. I went to answer it. It was Sly. I turned around to see a suprised look on Carmelita's face, followed by a fierce one.


	7. Chapter X: When the Music's Over

I didn't see much of the guys after the concert. Danny got his dream job at NASA, and his currently writing a TV show about his ghost adventures back in his hometown. I hear that Nickelodeon picked it up for 13 episodes.  
Lammy and her identical step-sisters merged into one, named 'ammy, with all personalities and habits combined. Eva and Lyn went to be representatives for F.A.C.E.: Freaks Against Carnival Exploitation. INTERPOL Chief Woodman died, and Carmelita was welcomed back to the force. Simon was drafted and killed in the war.  
With Klonoa in tow, Teriyaki Yoko and I went back to New York. We got hitched a few months later. And Marinera? Well she's a costume designer for famous movie studios and her mother. She never figured out she had ghost powers like me until she was 7 years old.

 _When the night has come,  
And the land is dark,  
And the moon is the only light to see,  
No I won't be afraid  
Oh I won't be afraid  
Just as long as you stand by me.  
_  
Since then, I never made friends, acquired superpowers, or went on adventures that were the same as the ones I had in this story. But then again, has anyone?

I pressed CTRL+S and closed my tablet computer. Standing before me were two kids: one boy and one girl. They were Marinara's children, both fully human (Marinara, being 1/4 bug, mated with a 100% human). They have the same ghost powers as me and Marinara, as those powers by contrast do not deplete on further generations.  
"Grandpa," the girl whined, "You promised to take us out for burritos!"  
"Okay. Let's go," I stood up, took my cane, and walked with my grandchildren out the door of my old New York apartment in the not-too-distant future.

THE END


End file.
